


first loves aren't for keeps, but hopefully this one will be

by orphan_account



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-20
Updated: 2014-07-20
Packaged: 2018-02-09 16:03:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1989147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Levi isn’t the dating type, that much everyone, including himself, knew. Then he meets Eren Jaeger who is several degrees of brilliant and crazy. With more emphasis on the crazy.</p>
<p>If he knew he was into nutjobs, he would’ve gone for Hanji. </p>
<p>On second thought, he wasn’t even going to go there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	first loves aren't for keeps, but hopefully this one will be

People had bad days sometimes.

Levi reckoned that this would be one of his bad days. They occurred rarely, mainly because Levi was not the sort to give two shits about most things and was therefore unable to say whether or not a day was bad, but when they did, they were really awful. Like, stain-on-my-kitchen-linoleum awful.

This day was on a fuck-it-I-need-an-industry-level-floor-polisher level of terrible, which meant to say that this ranked pretty high on Levi’s bad day scale. He was even tempted to dub it as his worst day as of yet; more so than the shitstorm that had been his mother’s most recent attempt at a fourth, or maybe fifth or sixth, marriage and The Experiment — which nobody talked about lest they struck a chord in someone else — Hange conducted two months ago.

The day started normally enough. Levi had omelettes and toast for breakfast. He took his coffee with one too many cubes of sugar. He read the newspaper which contained much about foreign political scandals and almost none about whatever the fuck it was that was supposed to be a national issue. He took a jog around his quiet neighborhood and ignored all the friendly greetings sent his way by his elderly neighbors. After ten kilometers — he managed to finish it at thirty minutes which, he supposed, was good enough for a lazy day like this; meaning to say that more than half of the population couldn’t even stomach running five kilometers in thirty minutes — he made his way home. He stopped by his mailbox and took out his mail.

He went inside his home, and placed his mail on the counter that separated the hallway connected to the house’s entrance from the living room. He took a quick shower, after which he dressed himself in his day clothes, which consisted of a black suit, and grabbed one of his mail: a black letter-sized envelope with a red seal. He took it to his office room and carefully opened it with a paper knife. The frown on his brow deepened as he about his next mission which came in the form of a crisp, white sheet of paper.

His next mission could be summarized as such:

Find and detain Target A. Interrogate Target A about the whereabouts of the other high-ranking people of Organization B. Kill Target A. Kill Targets B to god knows how many they are now, but get more information out of them first. Do it for your country and godspeed, Agent Ackerman. P.S. You have one week. Regards, Agent Smith.

The envelope also contained information about Target A, the charismatic head of the Wall Cultists, Nick Priestly, and other information that they had on the Wall Cult, a religion that was spreading fast amongst the exceedingly rich and tremendously influential citizens of Sina City. It was, therefore, a _dangerous_ religion because it had the power to change decisions on a global level.

Levi really didn’t have an opinion on that — Erwin was the one who tended to have opinions on things — he just did his job because he was good at it and it just so happened to pay well. Really well.

He walked to where his trash bin was, took out his lighter, and burned the letter. He watched as the ashes fell to the bin to make sure that none of them fell to his carpet.

Then he went to his garage, went inside his car, and drove to that cafe he often frequented. Once there, he ordered his usual — today’s blend, as sweet as you can, and also that cake on the left — and, after claiming his order, sat down on his usual spot.

And that was when, perhaps, things started to go downhill.

His usual spot was a comfy red armchair that was on the corner. It was in between the shop window, which gave a good view of everyone who passed by, and an antique floor lamp. It gave him as much privacy as anyone could have in a coffee shop in a bustling city.

It was, surprisingly, a lot of privacy. Though this might have had something to do with Levi looking very much like someone people ought to not cross paths with. Not to say that he looked someone suspicious, just that he was someone terribly . . . intimidating; whether it was the furrow in his brow or the frown on his mouth or the glare that seemed to have set permanently on his eyes, nobody knew.

He opened up his laptop and began to work on his latest masterpiece. Writing was something like a breather for him, a medium for his highly amusing, highly offensive thoughts on a lot of things. He wasn’t going to be the next Rowling, what with his material clearly unfit for children, nor was he going to be the next big _anything_ , he supposed. Though contrary to what Levi thought, he was slowly yet steadily beginning to make a mark. His readers would say something about his vivid descriptions that made them feel like they were actually there. Given that his stories were mainly about mystery and murder with a bunch of social commentary, he supposed that it ought to resemble reality at least a little bit.

_“Dead bodies just don’t walk out on their own.” Detective Langley looked at the macabre scene that was short of three corpses. Three corpses that had just been there half an hour ago—_

Then a donut landed on his lap.

“Shit,” he heard someone exclaim.

Levi looked up.

Oh, wow.

It was probably love at first sight because Levi didn’t really mind the crumbs the donut left on his black pants because he was too busy checking out the kid — hopefully a college student and not a barely legal high schooler which Levi thought he looked like — who had managed to trip on thin air and have his donut land on Levi’s lap. The Levi of three minutes ago would have thought it blasphemous to not feel even the least bit vexed about having (slightly, minisculely) sugared, dirtied pants that ants would just love to feast on.

Instead, Levi said something like, “I hate their sugar-glazed donuts,” and he thought something like, “Those eyes are amazing.”

“I’m really sorry,” said the kid.

“It’s okay,” said Levi and he gave the kid the fallen donut. He was fucking crazy because it ten seconds had already passed and he was not flipping over his newly washed, newly ironed pants that now, without his permission, adorned small, barely there sugary bits.

“Just, I don’t know. I’ll buy you a cup of coffee or something to make up for it.”

“No need.” This was the longest conversation he had had with a total stranger. A total stranger who was just his type, and Levi didn’t even know he had a type aside from tall, blond gentlemen with devious minds but that was a phase he was definitely over with and had no intent of going back to.

“You sure?” Before Levi could answer, the kid pulled out his wallet and took out a piece of paper, upon which he scribbled something. “If I can help you with anything, here’s my number.”

He had a bright, cheery smile. Then he, glancing at the clock and mumbling something about an appointment, left just like that.

Levi picked up the piece of paper and neatly folded it. He placed it inside his bag and remained distracted for the rest of his morning.

 

* * *

 

A series of misfortunes followed the coffee shop incident.

Throughout the entire window, a shitload of things happened. This would consist of events that normal people would find merely mildly annoying but which greatly vexed Levi because he took to social activities as much as a gnat would.

Bird shit on his car window. Hanji waiting for him on his porch with a big ass grin on her face and a million theories about how mythological creatures reproduced. His neighbor’s dog peeing on his well-kept lawn. Girl scouts ringing on his doorbell to ask him if he would so kindly like to relieve them of their sugary goods. Salesmen ringing his phone to ask him if he would like to buy The Next Greatest Invention Since Sliced Bread.

Then in the late afternoon, while he was in the middle of dinner preparations, his grandmama — bless her hundred-and-four-year-old soul — called to tell him, “ _Levi, mon chou, nous allons visiter la semaine prochaine. Tu nous manques beaucoup. Comment est votre petite amie?_ ” Upon which he had answered something like, it would be nice having you here, grandmama, I miss you as well. Then he had skipped the whole girlfriend query entirely because the last girlfriend he introduced to his grandmama was Petra who was, as far as Levi or anyone was concerned, on her way to the altar with Oluo; the whole girlfriend affair had only happened that time when he had been told that his grandpapa — bless his hundred-and-ten-year-old sprightly self — was on the deathbed and had greatly wanted to see that his precious little cabbage was being taken care of by a significant other. Turns out what a fucking joke that had been because his grandpapa managed to survive for another day and maybe several more others after that. In fact, Levi was terribly sure that he’d die earlier than his grandpapa.

Now, to top it all off, there was a . . . _disturbance_ in Nick Priestly’s schedule.

If there was anything Levi disliked, it was his target going on detours because that meant they were more likely to change their schedules at any given moment, that meant that he needed to do more stalking in order to jot down potential changes to their behaviors and any other foreseeable patterns. Mainly, it all boiled down to more work time than Levi would have liked.

He tsked as the good (manipulative, fearful, paranoid) Father Nick failed to glance around surreptitiously. He looked pale and panicked, as if he already knew that someone was following him. Though, to give the man credit, there were people following him — not Levi, of course, because he was stealthy as fuck —, in fact, several people who all wore black hoodies.

See, the thing was, Father Nick, in a disguise, of course, liked frequenting the seedier parts of town. It wasn’t anything as blasé as a central figure in a (supposedly) religious cult having a penchant for supporting the rather active nightlives of illegal sex workers. It was more like a central figure of a religious cult strengthening ties with big wigs with more salacious business backgrounds than what was secretly socially acceptable.

Nick rounded a corner and began to walk at a faster rate. The gang of hooded men walked faster as well. Levi briskly, quickly followed them through connected rooftops and rickety escape ladders.

Screams pierced the air and Levi let out a curse. This was not his day. He was supposed to capture Nick alive first in order to wrangle some information out of him regarding that Wall Cult. He deftly swung down a ladder and, almost as soon as he had landed on the ground, the stench of trash introduced itself to his nose. He frowned even more.

The alleyway Nick Priestly had decided to seek refuge in was cramped and moist and filled with unclosed garbage bags. More importantly, the man probably did not expect that it also led to a dead end.

A flash of steel caught Levi’s eyes. The screaming did not stop. Levi wondered if this was the turf of some fiercely protective, impossibly violent street gang; considering his luck so far, it had a high probability of happening. “More punks to deal with,” he muttered to himself. He made his way closer to where the screams were.

There was a man in the middle of all the carnage.

Blood splattered all over his clothes and face. Manic grin twisting his face into something grotesque yet beautiful. Wild thrusts and slashes. Bright, bright eyes open wide. There was no mistaking that this was the kid he had bumped into this morning, but it would also be a lie to say that this was Eren Jaeger _completely_.

Levi cleared his throat as soon as the kid appeared to be done mutilating beyond recognition his victims — for what other word could fit the slabs of meat plastered all over the concrete — and, had he possessed a grim sense of humor, or any sort of humor at all, he would have laughed at the look on Eren’s face.

“Eren Jaeger?” asked Levi.

Eren nodded.

“We met earlier,” said Levi.

“Yeah, um,” said Eren. “I didn’t get your name. Sorry.”

“It’s Levi." He honestly didn’t know why he was telling his name to a murderer, but then again, the two of them kind of shared that in common.

“Well, uh, hi Levi,” said Eren. He had a bashful, unsure smile on his face as he gave Levi a little wave with the hand that wasn’t holding his knife.

He looked so lost and out of place. It would have been funny — or at least normal-people funny because this was the sort of funny that was up Hanji’s alley, pun intended — if this wasn’t a dubiously dark alleyway or if the only thing that was confident about Eren wasn’t the way he gripped that bloody knife. It took Levi a grand total of three seconds to come to the conclusion that “You don’t know jack shit about who you killed, did you?”

Eren nodded again. He looked strangely at Levi, as if the man had grown wings and three heads. “Should I?”

Levi looked at the mangled body that had once been Nick Priestly. Had he been a lesser man, his dinner would have splayed all over the dirty, grimey concrete. As he was Levi, he merely grimaced. There were other, more important things to note in this situation. As he held no love for Nick Priestly, he wondered how he would go about his job now.

“I needed him alive,” said Levi simply.

“But you would’ve killed him eventually.”

“I needed information from him.”

“Oh.” Eren paused. He scratched the side of his face. Blood painted his cheek. Levi fought the urge to wipe it clean. “Should I patch him up then?”

Levi stared at him.

Eren let out an awkward laugh. Cute, but absolutely out of place. This was the Eren Levi had met in the coffee place. “I was trying to make a joke to, uh, lighten up the mood and stuff.” He frowned and looked at the ground. He absentmindedly began to wipe the blood out of his knife from a handkerchief he pulled out of his jacket pocket. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I don’t take out other people’s targets. I must’ve not heard about it. If it helps, I can probably get you through someone who knows more about him, whoever they are.”

“Who the fuck are you and who do you work for?”

“It’s in the note,” said Eren. “I’m Eren Jaeger.” He placed his knife somewhere inside his jacket. He pulled out a water bottle and poured some of its contents in his handkerchief. He threw his handkerchief to the ground. He doused the bodies with the substance contained in his water bottle and then threw the bottle the same place he threw his handkerchief. “I don’t work for anyone.” He smiled at Levi. “You can think of it as a hobby.” He put on gloves and walked towards the nearest fire escape ladder. He took a hold of one of its rusted rungs and began climbing up. “You might want to back up a bit. I’ll want to burn them a bit to erase some evidence.”

“What makes you think I’m not with the cops?” Levi took a few steps back towards the entrance of the alleyway.

“Well, I guess it’s because you want to kill that guy, whoever that one was.” Eren took out a circular object from his jacket and threw it at the pile of bodies below him. Fire slowly began to build up. “Let me make it up to you!” He gave a quick wave and disappeared into the night.

This was, by far, the strangest way by which he had been asked out.

 

* * *

 

Levi, however, was predisposed to doubting people and did not bother to initiate any contact with the boy. Nevertheless, this did not deter his brain — treacherous thing that it was — from thinking about the way Eren Jaeger looked good in red.

 

* * *

 

They met a week later at a gathering hosted by one of the local socialites. It was open only to the finest and oldest families in the cities. Normally, Levi, who was far from being a part of this glamorous world of the rich and richer, wouldn’t even hear a single word about events like these; neither would he even want to attend something like this.

He was invited because of Erwin — aside from being Levi’s too charismatic, too knowledgeable boss, he was also part of the top brass of Smith & Sons — whom Levi was beginning to suspect had not invited him in order for him to follow his next target — heiress Cathy Caruthers, part of the inner circle of some scandal that had yet to be revealed and which some people hoped to be never revealed — but had invited him in order to annoy him with the pleasantries that the rich liked to indulge themselves in.

Levi hated crowds. Much more so crowds that tried to talk with him.

In the middle of one gentleman’s nth explanation of how he and his business partners managed to expand their business territory to some other field or so, or perhaps he was already delving into another conversation topic which Levi couldn’t be damned to care about anyway, when someone tapped his shoulder and asked, “Is that you, Levi?”

When Levi turned around, he was met with bright eyes and a warm smile.

“Eren Jaeger,” said Levi in acknowledgment.

His heart was making gentle pitter-patters. Frankly, he felt like he was ten or fifteen or eighteen, like he was back in those days when he roughhoused with kids and when he got into so much shit that he thought he was going to die.

Eren wore a deep red shirt under his black suit. It suited him.

“I didn’t think you were the type to go to these things,” said Eren.

“I’m broke as shit,” said Levi.

Eren let out a sound that was midway between a snort and a chuckle.

“Didn’t think I’d be seeing you here,” continued Levi. “You some rich kid or something?”

“I guess you could say that,” replied Eren. He shifted from one foot to the other. He began to fix his cufflinks. Clearly, the kid wasn’t comfortable talking about just how much his net worth was.

“Rich kids with their weird hobbies.”

The smile on Eren’s lips was too wide, too vicious, too reminiscent of that monster in the alleyway that hacked up Nick Priestly beyond recognition.

“I could say the same for you, Agent Ackerman.”

Levi narrowed his eyes.

A waiter serving drinks passed by them and Eren relieved him of two cocktails.

“I hope you caught on that I didn’t give you my number so you could ring me up for the donut,” said Eren.

“You’re desperate for a fuck,” said Levi. “I get that.”

A blush bloomed on Eren’s cheeks. It looked a little off given that he was practically oozing with confidence a few moments ago. But it was still rather endearing nonetheless. “What? No!” He offered Levi one of the drinks he was holding. “I didn’t know you were thinking of that the entire time,” he muttered as he looked a little to the side. Even his ears were red.

“I was pulling your leg, kid.” He took a sip of his drink. Damn thing didn’t pack a punch. “Let’s take this somewhere else.” Not bothering to look whether or not Eren would follow him, he began to walk towards the garden labyrinth; at his periphery, he had seen Caruthers, and some other guy whom he could remember Erwin saying that he ought to watch out for as well, walking towards this place. Levi looked at the sky once he got outside of that stuffy function room filled to the brim with men in crisp, black suits and women in dresses of muted colors. The moon shone brightly in the dark, dark sky. Stars winked at him. He scowled back.

“Has anyone told you that you’re mean?” asked Eren.

“A shitload of times,” replied Levi nonchalantly. He made his way to one of the labyrinth entrances. He gave Eren a glance. “So tell me more about that hobby of yours.”

“I’m a student at the Stohess U’s Surgery Department.” Levi translated this to, “I want to do cutting people up for a living, but sometimes I like to let loose and not give them clean cuts.” Still for a brat like him to be studying some kind of medicine in Stohess, he had to be pretty impressive. Or well-connected, which he probably was, seeing that he was in this hell-hole. “What do you do for a living, Levi?”

Levi replied with a deadpan voice, “I kill people.”

Eren laughed. “Aside from that.”

“Some other shit.”

Eren began to walk alongside him. “I have this friend. She tells me you write stuff.”

“Why the fuck do you know all these things?”

“I had another friend look into you. After you give people your number and they don’t call you back, you’ll get that feeling of wanting to know who they were.”

“Stop stalking me.”

“Then it turns out I knew someone who actually knew you in real life.”

Last time Levi checked, he didn’t know anyone who interacted with kids like Eren Jaeger.

“You have a second cousin named Mikasa, you know.”

Oh, well. Maybe except for that one. He thought she’d graduated ages ago. “Well, good to know we connect to each other then.”

“You don’t sound very pleased about that.”

Levi looked at Eren. “Oh, this is my happy face.” A mouth set on a frown, eyes that spoke volumes about how bored he was and about how he regretted not being able to make a legitimate-sounding excuse as to why he couldn’t make an appearance today.

“You’re terrible, Levi.”

“Being awfully familiar, aren’t we?”

Eren cocked an eyebrow. “Would you rather I call you Mr Ackerman then? That better for your age?”

Levi tsked. “Brats these days.” He stopped and took a seat on a bench that sat right under a lamp. Caruthers would be around five hedges in front of them. Any closer and she’d feel wary of her surroundings.

Eren sat beside him. “Mrs Caruthers, huh? About time she got a hit on her. My father worked closely with her first husband.”

“First husband?”

“Not a lot of people know about it but her husband right now is actually her second. The first one was Dimo Reeves of the Reeves Company.”

The Reeves Company was known for producing and selling military-grade weapons. The owner, the aforementioned Dimo Reeves, died five years ago of because of a slit to the throat. The killer was some retired secret agent who just so happened to be Levi’s guardian back then.

“You know a lot for a kid,” said Levi.

Eren shrugged and said, “Family dinners.”

“Sure she ain’t your hit?”

The blush that made its way to Eren’s ears was apparent even under the dim lighting. “Thought you’d forget about that.”

“I’d have to be fucked up in the head if I did,” muttered Levi.

Eren blinked and, with confusion evident in his eyes, regarded Levi. “Aren’t you?” When his and Levi’s eyes met, he continued his line of thought and said, “To kill people despite them not directly aggravating you, you’ve got to be a little fucked up here.” He tapped his temple. “You might say it’s your job, but I feel that you’re a little bit different from the others I’ve met.”

Their faces were so close that, even in the dim lighting of the garden, Levi could see specks of gold in Eren’s eyes. Levi could feel the other’s breath — warm, stunk of pasta and wine, and it was strange the way it still appealed to Levi who liked personal space — on his face.

“You like it,” whispered Eren.

“You tell me,” said Levi. “You know a lot of shit for a brat.”

Eren smiled. The edges of his eyes crinkled. The curve of his lips was beautiful.

Levi was fucked.

He bridged the gap between the two of them and kissed Eren.

Eren was so very, very warm. Hands wandered from Levi’s shoulders; then to his hair, mussing its perfectly gelled form; then to his face, to his cheeks, to his temples; before Eren’s hands finally settled on Levi’s shoulders, close to his neck. Levi’s right hand was placed on the bench — he could feel the smooth pebbles that made up their seat — and his left hand was buried in the messy, messy thing that was Eren’s hair.

“You’re pretty lucky,” muttered Levi. “I don’t usually touch my dates before our first date.” He usually didn’t touch his dates ever. Mostly because he hated touching people; partly because he didn’t go on dates.

Eren hummed and gave Levi’s cheek a peck. “That makes me more than lucky then because I got kisses.”

Levi raised an eyebrow. “Cocky fucker.”

“So I’ve been told,” murmured Eren before he leaned towards Levi to claim another, less passionate kiss which Levi freely gave to him. “You like it,” he said again. He had a cheeky little smile on his face.

“I’m not making any promises.” Levi grimaced. “Certainly not while I’m on a job.”

“Take your time.” Eren paused. “But not too long because I might just take matters into my own hands.” He grinned. He had sharp canines.

“Push your luck some more and you’ll be pushing daisies next.” He heard the bells of the clock tower ring. Ten in the evening.

“What are you waiting —”

The lights turned off. Darkness slowly enveloped the entire city as. Shouts from the surprised and panicked guests filled the room.

Levi took a hold of Eren’s nape and pulled the kid closer.

“Thanks for helping me pass my time, Jaeger,” murmured Levi in Eren’s ear.

He stood up, took out his gun, and aimed at where Caruthers and man she was with were. Two shots were fired. Levi, amidst the screams that came from the function room, could hear the two dull thuds that signified Caruthers and the man had fallen down. He neatly tucked his gun inside his suit. By the time he sat down, he heard feet shuffling from somewhere inside the garden; other undercover agents to act as the clean-up crew: mess up where the bodies had landed, change bullets, add in some chemicals that would make the kids at forensics get a different angle.

“I’ll take you out to dinner,” said Eren.

“Fix your boner before the lights come back, you sick fuck,” said Levi.

Eren punched him in the shoulder. Levi returned the favor by punching Eren hard enough to make Eren fall from his seat.

“Vindictive,” muttered Eren as he climbed back to his seat. “Wanna go back for another drink?”

“Wining and dining me before fucking me, huh? Very classy.”

Eren groaned. “Get your mind out of the gutter.” He stood up and tugged Levi up as well. “C’mon, someone might suspect you killed someone with the way you seem so unaffected by the gunshot.”

Levi could feel the grin on Eren’s face.

When the lights turned on, they had blended in the rows of panicked guests. Apparently, Levi hadn’t been the only one busy that night because several other dead bodies were in the room.

“Eren!” was the only warning they got before Eren got smothered by a woman. “Dear, I’m so glad nothing happened to you,” she said. “You’re always getting into all kinds of troubles that I was afraid that maybe —” She buried her head in Eren’s shoulder.

Eren smiled and hugged her. “It’s okay, mum,” he said. He winked at Levi. “Mr Ackerman here made sure that I didn’t get into any trouble.”

The last expression Levi wore before Eren was hauled away was a scowl.

That night, he received a text on his private phone.

_lets get into more trouble ;-)_

He saved the number as “Crazy Little Shit.”

_Fuck off, Jaeger._

**Author's Note:**

> Hurrah for vacation!
> 
> Really wanted to write a love-struck Eren who unintentionally stalks Levi.
> 
> Aaaaand it's gone.


End file.
